Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,39

into the seat, but it’s not enough.

“Do. You. Understand?!” My roar fills the car and steals all the oxygen from Emma’s lungs.

Another car honks his horn behind me, and I’m reaching for my bag in the back that holds my gun. I’ll drag the fucker out of his car and put a bullet in his head.

“I understand. I’m sorry.” Emma’s words spill quickly from her lips. “Shay, I’m sorry. It was stupid of me. I knew that the minute I did it.”

Her words have me leaving the gun where it is. She doesn’t know it, but she just saved some driver from dying today. I continue to drive to my home. I have nowhere else to go right now. Someone rang the coppers, someone who had a pull with them. Any place up here I thought was safe—isn’t.

The car idles outside as I stare up at the house. I didn’t want to bring this shit to my ma’s doorstep, and if my da had put a hit on Emma’s head, I was taking her right to him. He wouldn’t harm her while she was with me, but once we left, she was fair game.

My fists ache. I reach across Emma, who hasn’t moved a muscle, and take out a pair of leather gloves that I slip my torn-up hands into.

“Don’t mention the fight in here,” I say without looking at Emma. I get out and take my bag out of the back. She’s still sitting in her seat. She hasn’t removed her seatbelt.

My hand slams down on the roof of the car, and she jumps. “Now, Emma!” Her fingers fumble over the seat belt. I’m aware that she’s wiping her eyes as she climbs out of the car.

My gut tightens, but I ignore it as I stop at the bushes and stuff my bag down the side before walking up to the door. My ma opens it with a smile on her face. Her smile doesn’t disappear but lessens as she peeks at Emma, who’s behind me.

“Is this her?” There is so much hope in my ma’s voice. I nod, still too pissed off to speak. I kiss my ma on either cheek, and we step into the house.

“You are a true beauty,” My ma starts as I enter the kitchen.

“Thank you.” Emma’s small voice has me tempted to look over my shoulder as I take a carton of milk out of the fridge and start to drink deeply.

“Shay, don’t drink out of the carton.” I stop when my ma reprimands me.

“Sorry, Ma.”

“He normally wouldn’t do that,” My ma is back to speaking to Emma.

I put the milk back in the fridge. “Where’s Da?” Closing the door, I come eye to eye with my ma. She’s searching my face.

“At a meeting.”

“Are you hungry?” My ma asks Emma but doesn’t give her a second to answer as she starts to take food out of the fridge.

Red, swollen eyes meet mine, and I curse Emma. She has been crying. She must have cried in the car. My stomach tightens, but I blink and step away from her.

“If you have any apple pie, I’ll take it.” I sit down at the table and take out my phone. Four missed calls from Jack and even one from Liam. I grin. Fuck them.

A chair is pulled out beside me. The smell of vanilla is sweet as Emma sits down. She’s dragged her top over her hands. A red mark on her jaw is stark. I know that wouldn’t have gone unnoticed with my ma.

“Take your hair down,” I speak quietly to Emma. She doesn’t question me but lets her hair fall like a curtain around her face.

My ma’s worried gaze clashes with mine as she places a salad in front of Emma. She better not come near me with that fucking rabbit food.

“Thank you.” Emma tucks some hair behind her ear. Her movement causes her thighs to brush against mine, and I hate how aware I am of her. I’m still fucking pissed. She could have gotten herself killed.

My ma returns with a cup of tea and a large slice of pie. The moment she places it in front of me, she presses a kiss to my head. She’s ready to walk away when I capture her hand in my gloved one. I bring it to my lips and kiss her soft hand.

I can’t imagine what she felt the day Frankie died, but for me, it’s right there at the surface, and I want to